


In Memoriam

by Starsfury



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Gen, I Miss Doyle, I was very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 00:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16984341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsfury/pseuds/Starsfury
Summary: Our favourite half-demon sheds a little insight on the reality of heroes - Angel S1E9 - Hero





	In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> This is written right after the episode Hero aired (2/27/2001) and I was in some denial

            It seems to be that everyone misses the point.  History, friends, even the ones who seem to be in charge.  No one ever seems to remember that the heroes that we cling to are never pure.

            The heroes that we revere are often the ones with the bloodiest pasts.  Or they are the ones with the least, yet the most, to lose.

            Why doesn’t anyone understand that?  How hard is it to comprehend?  How can you save a soul when you have never lost your own.

            I don’t mean physically.  I mean the spirit crushing despair and pain that warps our reality.  The absolute absence off all feeling.  That is the loss of a soul.

            The ones who shape the world are the ones who have been there.  The ones who experienced that fatal path.  You can have a heartbeat, but are you really alive.

            When you reach the edge of the abyss you grab onto anything you can.  You hold tight and refuse to let it go.  You hold so tight that you never see the fall.  And when you plummet you can’t see the truth for the lies.

            As you fall into that pit you begin to lose the sensations.  The feelings of tangible things that made your life seem worth living.  But you don’t see it.  You don’t realize it.

            How can there be good, without evil?  How can you see light if you don’t first have dark?  You can try to beat the evil that permeates our realm, what good will it do you.

            All that matters is the one.  That one thing that makes life worth living.  All that matters is how you pass on that gift.  If you have light in your soul, you share it.  If someone has pain you ease it.

            Yet when the hero falls, everyone forgets that they are one of us.  Subject to the same flaws and rules as the rest of us.  They seem to think that you are infallible, you can do no wrong.

            And when you finally reach the end of the fall you don’t know what is next.  You have been so wrapped up in holding on that you forget to fall.  You get so wrapped in dying that you forget how to live.

            This is not a journey you can take anyone with you on.  It has to be you and your demons.  You and yourself.  We are not centers of the universe.  The grand plan is not triumph over all evil.  The plan is to give people that extra push to help them earn life.

            The fight is important.  Don’t make that mistake.  Evil has not a problem with wiping out good.  That is what makes being a hero so hard.  You have to become empty to care.  You have to die to live.  Most important you have to let go to hang on.

            He had to take this trip.  He, of all the others, had to be the one to fall.  Once it was said that the greatest love was that of a Fallen Angel.  He had to learn that his past is meant to guide.  Holding onto guilt does nothing except hinder you.

            Feel remorse for the ones hurt, but don’t lump it all into the guilt.  Remember the faces.  They were people and will be again. 

            To save the world, surrender yours.

            Can you do it?

            I had no idea what I was signing myself up for when I followed.  I don’t regret my decisions.  I saw at that time one of the greatest hearts life had to offer.  I watched it wither a little more each day.

            Now I get to see it blossom a little each instant.  Closure has a big effect.  Life is a circle.  Often where you start is where you end.  Alone, together.  It is all the same in the long run.

            Did you try to break it?  Did you make a change?  Destinies are not written in stone, and even if they were, the hero is waiting with a sledgehammer.

            She will have a depth to find.  One none will think she will survive.  He will understand.  That is love.  Not the contact.  But the deep lying connection made in pain and time.

            They didn’t choose, none of us do.  Eternity is a long time and yet it is over in an instant.  Eternity is the time that exists between heartbeats, between breaths.  Eternity will go on long after they join me here.

            So what is the point?  Why the pain?  How can you appreciate the vibrant wellspring of euphoria that is the very center of life if you have never been shut away from it?

            He will have to fit his life into theirs.  They will have to let go of the past, like he did.  He will pray their journey is gentler, yet hope that they understand when it isn’t.

            She will find balance in vertigo.  Shelter is gone, torn away in an instant.  Next step; build your own road.  Never take the path most traveled.  Never take the road least traveled.

            Do nothing, but do everything.

            I, myself, will watch and weep.  Rage and cheer.  That is what I do now.  It is not his time to come across.  All I can hope for is to never be forgotten.  I will love him and his team for all eternity.  I found my moment of peace and my glimpse of the Elysian Fields that day I gazed into the deep brown eyes of Cordelia.

            With that I am content.  He will find his fields and she will be waiting.  That is the marvelous thing about love.  It never ends.  As long as some one weeps in pain or joy, it will never end.

            And that my friends, means that They will go on forever.  Maybe not together today.  Maybe not tomorrow.  Maybe not for a million tomorrows.  But they live in me and in you. 

            What more can a hero ask for?

 

~{{~ In Memoriam Of Allen Francis Doyle ~}}~


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